


The Art of Entertainment

by gayringostarr



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 1960s, 1960s Music, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - No Band, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Friends to Lovers, Kind of gay, M/M, circus AU, i dont know, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayringostarr/pseuds/gayringostarr
Summary: When their record flops all throughout the world, John, Paul, George, and Ringo have no choice but to follow a different path... a path that includes clowns, acrobats, tightrope walkers, and trapeze acts.  (Not going to be continued sorry xx )
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	The Art of Entertainment

It had been 2 weeks since the boys released their first album ever. The response to their album was quite unexpected, and to put it simply, a catastrophe.

“Well, what do we do now?” George sighed, placing a hand on his chin. “We released a perfectly fine album, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Ringo agreed.

“Clearly it wasn’t a fine album, you twats,” John snapped, throwing a half-burned cigarette into the ashtray in front of him. He sat up from the kitchen table the four were sitting at and began pacing back and forth around the room. “What did we expect? 10 hours for an entire record, I told you all it wouldn’t be enough. And you didn’t listen, did you? No.”

Paul leaned back in his seat and put a hand on John’s arm. “John. Calm it, will you? We have to relax. Yeah, we released a record that completely flopped in every part of the world. Yeah, maybe some people bought it just to burn it. But we can’t allow it to get to us, alright? Do you remember…” he paused for a moment, staring directly at John’s heated expression. “Do you remember Plan B?”

John’s eyes went wide for a moment before furrowing his brows. He let out a frustrated sigh, “You’re joking, right? You have to be joking.” Paul shrugged, turning back to face the table.

“What are you two talking about?” Ringo asked, looking from Paul, John, and then to George, who also seemed to not know what the other two were referring to. 

“Plan B. Paul and I came up with it years ago, as a bloody joke, in case our little ‘band’ thing didn’t work out. And this swine seems to have taken it seriously,” he gestured at Paul as he sat back down.

“Well, we might as well try it, don’t you think? We agreed. Come on, John!” Paul said.

“No, Paul, we can’t fucking try it! Look at our condition, look at Ringo! Does he seem like the type of bloke to be able to do any sort of physical activity?” John shouted. 

“That’s why we said Ringo would be the clown,” Paul replied and they met him with wide eyes and confused faces.

“Wait, what are you saying? I can be active--” Ringo started, frowning.

“Now hold on a minute, you still haven’t explained what exactly ‘Plan B’ is,” George interrupted. “Physical activity? Clowns? What is this?” he scowled, crossing his arms.

“Okay, listen,” Paul began. “It started out as a joke, right? But one night John and I got so bloody pissed that we actually planned it all out, everything down to the smallest detail. So if it sounds a bit wonky, just know that, you hear?”

“Yes, Paul, okay. Just tell us,” said Ringo.

“Okay, here goes.” Paul looked back at John and tried to hide his obvious grin.

“A circus.”

The room fell silent. George sort of tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Paul, and Ringo looked at him with a deadpan expression.

John buried his face in his hands and sighed. “So, fellas. Is it as wonderful as you thought it’d be?”

“No, it’s not, you cunts,” George responded, not completely believing what he heard. “Are you hearing yourself right now? A bloody circus? I think you might’ve had too much to drink, Paul, ‘cause that… that is not something a sane person would say.”

“C’mon George, it’s not that bad,” Paul said, grinning. “And I have had no alcohol today, thank you very much.”

John sighed before lifting his head up, “Paul, you’re literally asking them to consider joining a circus, a fucking circus, and you have the mind to say it’s ‘not that bad’? Are you alright?”

“Wait—are you guys being serious about this?” Ringo asked, switching his glance from John to Paul.

“Sadly Ringo, we are. He is, actually,” John said before he buried his face in his hands again. “I wish I could say I had no input in this, but alas, I did. Let me just say that at the time, making a circus seemed like a good idea. But now? I can see that it is in fact the worst idea we’ve ever had.”

“Oh, quit your moping.” Paul retorted and took a sip of tea.

“Well, I guess we could give it a shot,” Ringo hesitated.

“Jesus Christ, no! Don’t agree with him!” John pleaded.

“He agrees, see! It’s not that bad,” Paul exclaimed. “Now shut up, we‘re gonna do it.”

“Excuse me! If I remember correctly, I haven’t agreed to this yet.” George said, still not completely understanding the whole situation. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying you want us, four of the most unathletic, non-flexible, lazy bastards in all of Liverpool, to form a circus? As in the type with trapeze artists and jugglers and whatnot?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying, George.” Paul replied.

“Oh. Well, that’s great. That’s just bloody fantastic.”

“Do you…” Paul hesitated. “Do you want to do it?”

“Let me think,” George said with an overly wide grin. “No, of course I don’t want to do it! What the hell is wrong with you? Have you gone mad, Paul?” He shot glances as John and Ringo, hoping to see some equally startled expressions, but instead he was just met with an upset John and a slightly excited Ringo. 

Paul jumped out of his seat and loosened his tie. “Right, well,” he started. “Three out of four. Majority wins, George!”

Scowling, he shook his head and grabbed a ciggie from his pocket. “I suppose.”

“I doubt this’ll work…” John trailed. “And if it doesn’t, I’m going back to music. I don’t give a fuck if people ‘hate it’. The Cavern locals like my voice when I sing Twist and Shout so they’ll let me go perform there again. It’s me backup plan,” John grinned. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at Paul, awaiting his reaction.

“Fine, then it’s settled. We’re making a circus, boys!”

**Author's Note:**

> There are two authors to this fic, both who shall remain anonymous ;)  
> We aren't completely sure where this will go because it's quite the err... wild concept, but hopefully someone can get amusement out of it. Cheers!


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